No one had gone into it from the river, but we were told it
could be done. We hoped to find this bridge.
The current was swift, and we travelled fast, in spite of a stiff wind
which blew up the stream, getting a very good view of the mountain
from the river a few miles below our camp, and another view of the
extreme top, a short distance below this place, not over six miles
from the San Juan. We had directions describing the canyon in which
the bridge was located, our informant surmising that it was thirty
miles below the San Juan. We thought it must be less than that, for
the river was very direct at this place, and a person travelling over
the extremely rough country which surrounded this side of the mountain
slope would naturally have to travel much farther, so began to look
for it about twelve miles below camp. But mile after mile went by
without any sign of the landmarks that would tell us we were at the
"Bridge Canyon." Then the river, which had circled the northern side
of the peak, turned directly away from it, and we knew that we had
missed the bridge. At no point on the trip had we met with a
disappointment to equal that; even the loss of our moving-picture
film, after our spill in Lodore, was small when compared with it.
On looking back over the lay of the land, we felt sure that the bridge
was at one of the two places, where we had seen the top of the
mountain from the river. To go back against the current would take at
least three days.
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